


I'm Only a Fool For You

by pouty_hoseok



Series: Songfics [17]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Choi San-centric, Drabble, Heartbreak, M/M, Protective Choi San, Rejection, Songfic, Unrequited Love, therell be a part two tho so its kinda ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pouty_hoseok/pseuds/pouty_hoseok
Summary: Maybe if he says it enough, it’ll be true.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Series: Songfics [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599289
Kudos: 16





	I'm Only a Fool For You

**Author's Note:**

> the new album SLAPS y'all istg and there will also be a pt two that'll be published sooner or later and maybe w/ art or something idk

[ _ idfc (acoustic) _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-N89TPQdX2o)

The guitar starts. 

“Tell me pretty lies, look me in the face, tell me that you love me, even if it’s fake,” San sings. He shouldn’t. His voice is messed up from crying earlier, but he’s been fucked since he set foot in the  _ Aurora _ . His chest is closing up as he sings and plays the guitar when he needs to, though Jongho has it under control. He’s usually their lead vocalist, but San had begged and pleaded to be allowed to cover this one song. Jongho hadn’t cared and had been happy to sit it out, though San wonders if it’s just because he seemed so pitiful. 

“But I don’t fuckin’ care.” San’s head is cloudy from the booze he had earlier, having done a shot and smoked a bit too. He hadn’t wanted to remember his heartbreak. Wooyoung might be here tonight, but it’s certainly not because of San, and, just as the song says, he doesn’t fucking care.

(Yet, at the same time, San’s chest is closing up as he catches sight of Wooyoung in the crowd and he wants nothing more than to break down and sob. He doesn’t have a choice, though. Wooyoung doesn’t want him.)

“I act like I don’t fuckin’ care, like they ain’t even there,” San cries. The crowd is excited, they like it. “‘Cause I have hella feelings for you. I act like I don’t fucking care . . . ‘cause I’m so fuckin’ scared!” He pauses, flashing a fake grin. 

“I’m only a fool for you.” His voice is loud, kudos to the microphone, and San is happy about it. A selfish part of him wants Wooyoung to hear how broken he is. “And maybe you’re too good for me.” 

Wooyoung looks over at him. He looks good tonight, but who is San kidding? He always thinks Wooyoung looks good. Tonight is no different - the leather pants hug his legs and the faux-fur jacket somehow manages to look classy. His round-lensed sunglasses are useless except for when it comes to being an accessory that sits nestled in his hair on the top of his head, but San has a feeling Wooyoung doesn’t mind. He’s just . . . Wooyoung’s always been good at letting things slide off of him. 

He can remember how they got to where they are. He can remember how he’d stumbled home, drunk out of his wits, yet it somehow wasn’t enough to wipe his memory. He remembers so much, too much - from the sound of their shouting to the feeling of Wooyoung’s lips against his own, his skin beneath his fingertips. He remembers the sounds he made, the way he acted, the words they shared - all of it. 

And that’s what hurts the most, isn’t it? Because San had woken up in bed after sleeping with his best friend but said best friend had been gone. He’d left San, just like that, as if their night together was nothing to him. Nothing but a mistake. 

San’s voice is breaking. He can feel the worried glances, sense them crawling over his skin as he sings, but for some reason, he can’t make himself stop. His head is spinning, he’s running on an adrenaline rush, he wants to fucking  _ die _ right now because Wooyoung is kissing some guy he’s never met like he’s never wanted to do anything more.

_ IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou _

_ Why can’t you love me back? _

“But I don’t fuckin’ care, I don’t fuckin’ care, I don’t fuckin’ care!” he sings, jumping to his feet and taking the mic with him. The crowd of people in front of him loves it. San knows he’s crying, tears leaving black streaks down his cheeks. “At all!” 

There’s a shout from the crowd that makes San’s stomach do flips and twists in his abdomen. He feels like vomiting. He keeps on singing, though, because he’s somehow managed to catch Wooyoung’s attention. He stares at the other man as he sings his heart out, wishing that he could be loved. 

_ Lovemelovemelovemeloveme _

San walks offstage. He doesn’t want to be there anymore. The others had known that he’d leave early, and they let him go. San wants to go home. 

He has a drink or two before he leaves. He can see Wooyoung, and his heart thunders in his chest as he watches him with the guy. 

Stupidly, desperately, San gets to his feet, swaying before he sets off in Wooyoung’s direction. As he gets closer, he can see the distressed look on his best friend’s face, the way he’s pushing and shoving at the guy behind him. San isn’t fast enough before Wooyoung storms out. 

“Woah, there,” San says, getting in front of the guy. He’s exactly Wooyoung’s  _ type _ (San’s lip curls in disgust) - broad-shouldered, muscular, all sharp angles. Handsome, brusque, and a total jackass.

“Who’re you?” the guy demands, angry. San crosses his arms over his chest. They’re close in height and muscle mass, and San thinks (though he  _ is _ a little drunk) that he could take the guy. That, and the fact that he was harassing Wooyoung. 

“You’re not gonna chase after him,” San says. “He’s not interested.” 

“Why’s it your job to decide that?” 

San clenches his jaw, narrowing his eyebrows. 

“It’s always been because I’m his best friend. And you’d better trust me when I say he’s not interested in whatever you’re offering.” San tilts his head back. “You take one more step toward that door-”

A fist collides with his jaw. San stumbles, clutching his chin and cursing. Ah, dammit, that’s gonna bruise.

“Leave me alone, dumbass,” the guy spits. “No one cares about your knight in shining armor shit. Just let me leave.” 

“Not until I know you’re gonna leave my friend alone,” San snaps, getting to his feet. He watches the guy carefully. “Now, you can either head out the back entrance, or you can get acquainted with my fists.” 

The guy snorts a laugh. San arches an eyebrow before pulling his fist back and punching as hard he can. 

There’s a crack that promises his opponent a broken nose. 

San grins. 

And then, of course, he’s kneed in the gut, and San can hear the crowd reacting. He’s not planning on going down like this, though, because he aims a kick at the guy’s chin, holding his fists up and stepping back. He bounces in place, glaring. 

“San, hey, San, quit it!” Mingi shouts. San’s friends break through the crowd and grab him, holding him back. The guy harassing Wooyoung gets up and grins, punching San in the face. It isn’t long before he feels blood coming from his nose. 

“Oh, you  _ fucker _ ,” San pants. He leaps at the other guy and pins him down, straddling his waist and pulling his fists back. “You like ta play dirty, do ya?! Is that what you like, you dirty dog?! Well, I’ll show you fuckin’ dirty!” he yells. 

“San, stop!” Seonghwa shouts, grabbing his arm. San yanks it free and goes back to beating the guy up. Angry, heartbroken tears stream down his cheeks, his teeth gritted as he cries. 

“Stop!” Jongho says, grabbing San. This time, he’s pulled away and his friends haul him out of the bar. 

“Let me go!” San says, thrashing furiously. “He was harassing Wooyoung! LET ME GO!” 

“No!” Seonghwa says. He forces San to sit down on a bench outside. “You stay here. They’re not gonna let you back in, anyway, so just . . . I’ll be back. I need to get a first aid kit for you. Don’t even  _ think _ about moving.” 

San watches him go. He reaches up and wipes the blood off of his lip, spitting on the ground. It’s drizzling, the rain mixing with his bloody spit. 

San hears the whimpers then. They prompt him to get up because he knows who the owner is, and Wooyoung is still his best friend even if they’re fighting. 

“Wooyoung-ah?” San says quietly. He stands in front of the alleyway and stares at the shaking back of his friend, his heart twisting. Wooyoung’s crying stops abruptly, and he turns around to look at him. 

“San?” he says. 


End file.
